A Silver of Trust
by Silver Gift
Summary: When I had died, I had been happy and satisfied with my life. But what I didn't expect, was me to be reborn in a show I loved so much. OC SI
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

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When I had died, I was happy. I had a warm family, with my kind mama, my strong papa, and my caring older sister. I had a bunch of friends whom I spent my life with, who stayed with me through thick and thin.

I was really happy and satisfied.

Then, life decided to throw in another lemon which was too sour and bitter to make into lemonade.

Yeah, I died.

* * *

What happens after death? When a person die, is he supposed to go to heaven?

What I did know, that I was pretty much... _Alive_.

It was confusing. Breathing in oxygen which seemed like ice, forming words which wouldn't quite come. But it didn't took long to realise that I was a baby. I mean, who wouldn't, if you get your diapers changed every now and then, and bottle-fed?

Just... Long story short, I died, and came back as a baby to haunt the world.

(Rahh, fear me world!)

Orphanages were all the same no matter where you go. A bit rundown, and simple looking. Strangly, I was satisfied with the fact that in this new life, I had no parents. Wouldn't it be weird and disturbing to have strangers believing that you are their child while all the time your mind was fixed on: this couple isn't my parents.

I wasn't the first orphan to be brought there. For the first two years of my life, I had been in a part of the orphanage which took care of younger children, as my only accompanies were babies. When I reached my third birthday, and I got shifted from the 'baby' to the 'nursery', things started to become a little more interesting.

I got excess to some children's story books for starters, and from it, I could tell that I was in US, or somewhere there. Or at least a country that spoke American English. (They spelt 'colour' as 'color', so I could at least be sure or that.)

There were fables, simplified bibles, and tons of books to read, but I soon exhausted my only entertainment source by the end of week one.

I had made it clear to the workers in the orphanage that I was at least smart enough not to get into trouble when they took their eyes off me. Not to mention I was very, very quick to 'potty-train' myself, so I was left alone for the most part besides mealtimes and naptimes, something that I very much approved of.

I could say that that the adults were quite relieved over my nature, since I rarely demanded attention or anything. (Once I had to do a sort of a half-wail because one of the adults locked me in a room, and I didn't even realised I was locked until lunchtime.)

There was one interesting rumour, though. There were whispers of 'demon child' in the orphanage, and naturally, being the busybody I always was, I poked my nose directly into this case.

That, was probably how I came to a startling conclusion that I was no longer in my own world.

* * *

I grimaced as I realised exactly how big the orphanage was, and there was definitely more than 30 kids running around at the same time. And that was only counting those that were present during my mealtime.

And we had different mealtimes, categorised by our age.

I sat by the table, closer to the adults, so I could hear the exchanges between them, and it would be less of a sudden to blurt questions to them this way.

"Hello ma'am?" I asked meekly.

I had been able to talk since before I was one, and after giving half the workers in the orphanage semi heart attacks with my supposedly prodigal skill, they had all accepted the fact that they were apparently raising a genius, which really meant that they had one less kid to take care of. And because I sometimes helped to look out for kids to make sure they don't walk out of the front door or crawl out of a window, I was very well favoured by some of the workers, evident when they lent me books (actual book, not children stories) to read.

Some kids in the orphanage didn't take the fact too well, though. Already at a young age, there were gangs formed, and there were bullies lurking in the orphanage. I usually ignored them but when they resorted to violence, I would just outrun them.

Good reason to build on my speed anyway.

"Who's the person you've been talking about?" I continued.

The lady paled slightly, and her her companion looked a tad startled.

"You wish to know what we spoke of, child?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am," I replied sweetly, "I'm just curious."

"And curiosity killed the cat," her companion signed. "It's best you leave this matter alone."

But the lady knew me better than her friend. She knew I would never put something which spiked my curiosity to rest. "Alright, I'd tell you, but promise me, child, that this would be the last time."

I nodded, but I knew I made no promise I couldn't keep.

The lady squatted down, so that she was closer to me, and she whispered in a hushed voice, "there's a boy in this orphanage who have a deformed hand. And it looks like one from a demon, who had slain enough to make his hand turn red."

I hummed in thought, and the two soon left me alone.

They would have been alarmed if they could read my mind, because at that point in time, all I could think of to make my life more interesting was to find this boy.

* * *

Despite what I had said, life past without me acknowledging it.

Though, I just knew the world was too small.

Because, before I hit four, I met _him_.

* * *

"Hand over that toy," the trio threatened.

The room was void of adults, perfect time for the bullies to strike. Their victim cowered, trembling slightly. The other children inched away from both the bullies and the victims. My eyes trailed over to them lazily, not really bothering that a bullying case was about to happen.

It was not that I didn't care. It was just a daily thing.

Then one of them glance towards me, and the three shared a quite discussion.

Before long, I found myself the new victim.

"Some guts you've gotten there, boy," one of them, the presumably leader of the trio, sneered at me.

Well, biologically and mentally, I was a girl. Maybe a tomboyish girl, but a girl nonetheless. It was only my appearance that fooled the people in the orphanage, and it felt too nice to mind blow them, and boys usually got a little more privilege than girls, so I had always kept my gender a secret.

Not that anyone cared, though.

Considering whether to reply a witty retort or just keep my mouth shut (in my past life, I had been getting in lots of trouble because of my words), I opted for the latter instead, wanting to observe first.

'_Hmmm, should I escape via the window this time?_' I weighed the idea up, '_or should I just invite them in a chase? I could train my stamina for any future events._'

I scanned the built of the leader, and immediately settled for the former.

"Too troublesome," I muttered, finding myself a shadow of Shikamaru from Naruto.

Too bad he was one of my favourite charactor.

"What was that, wimp?"

Wimp? Seriously? I could have come up with more imaginative words.

I opened my mouth to speak, but it came out as a gasp when I realised exactly who was standing beside the leader.

"Holy shit, Sasuke? As in, Uchiha Sasuke?"

The moment it came out, I knew I was wrong. For starters, Sasuke didn't have reddish-brown hair. Sasuke wasn't in an orphanage. And I just knew that I wasn't anywhere near a village called '_Konoha_', or that I had so far seen any ninja jumping on rooftops.

But all the while, both of them were so similar. The way that the boy sauntered around with his hand shoved in his pocket, the way that the boy looked coldly at everything, but all the same time, I knew that the boy was in grieve.

"I know you," I announced, as if it was something important. And I knew it was, just that I couldn't put a finger to it.

There was a moment of silence, before the bullies (minus the Sasuke-alike) bursted out laughing.

"You? Know _him_?" The leader jerked a thumb in the Sasuke-alike's direction, who looked really stunned.

In fact, he looked like he could collapse any moment.

"Yes. Yes, I know him," I repeated, this time confident and so sure of myself that had made the bullies did a double take.

Then, I realised, in the bullies' eyes, I was only a quiet target, who was never easy to impose on because I would be always quick to escape. But it wasn't because I stood up to them or something.

Granted, I wasn't exactly standing up to them at this moment, but none had the guts to really be unafraid in their presence. And so far, I had just been using the 'tactical retreat' strategy, preferring to get out of a trouble rather than solving it.

Indeed, so troublesome.

I had this spilt second thought that, maybe I shouldn't really have pointed it out. It would make no difference to my life anyway. Not to mention, it was impossible to know someone in this era. From what I observed, this was the freaking _nineteenth_ century.

I could be a little out dated in my own timeline, but I was no where as slow as to notice that there was, sadly, no smartphones and internet in this timeline.

The two bullies (except the Sasuke-alike) was whispering among themselves, and I couldn't be bothered with whatever exchange they made. However, my normal 'stand-by' mode had been switched to 'alert' mode once I became conscious as to what they were about to do.

Not really because of the bullies going to possibly harm their own gang member, but because of one phrase they said.

"Demon child," the leader snickered, with venom.

My eyes widened, and suddenly, it made sense.

Left hand. Deformed. Red.

Red. _Red_. Allen.

_Allen Walker._

I'm in D. Gray-Man?

Is the Earth still round?

I did not know exactly how I came to that conclusion, but it was as if everything just fitted, and it made perfect sense at the same time. Like an odd missing jigsaw puzzle that fitted well. It was unbelievable, yet convincing.

"That demon child has no names," the leader sniggered.

"His parents don't want him," the other added on.

My senses registered several things which happened: the bullies (now no-longer the trio, but just the duo) switched their target to the child-Allen, who was barely holding his place. Other bulies-in-hiding also ganged up (so now the duo became a group, just _marvellous_). I had a feeling somewhere there I had grabbed a trembling hand and pulled him along, escaping from the malicious crowd.

When the message had finally reached my mind, and then my brain started processing, I was no longer in the orphanage, or at least inside the orphanage. I squeezed the hand I had held, and even then, the trembling did not stop.

"It's okay," I cooed, "they won't get you here."

In the back of my mind, I silently pondered why Allen was actually part of the bullies. He had always seemed like the type of person who was easily intimidated, not the other way round. Then, logic hit me like a bucket of icy water, as I drew that, victims usually became bullies themselves. As a child, Allen must have feared that he would be ostracised because of his left arm, so he must have thought that joining the gang would help.

But obviously, it didn't.

Looking at the figure before me, I sighed. This was obviously going nowhere. And not to mention, I was feeling awkward. Like, really really awkward.

I was _never_ good at dealing with awkwardness.

'_When in doubt, be direct. Don't beat around the bushes_.' My lips quirked up in a wry smile as I remembered one of my quotes in my past life.

How could I forget my own way of living?

"What is your name?" I asked, though I knew very much that, Allen got his name only after Allen the dog died.

Wasn't it always good to start early?

He gave me a look of so much sorrow and hatred and hurt that it made my heart ached.

"Allen," I chocked, teetering between breaking down and giving 'motivational speech', before finally gaining control over my emotions. At his bewildered look, I repeated the name once more.

"Allen. You're Allen." I pointed to his chest, as if this simple action would make any difference.

"Who told you?" He retorted angrily, but at the same time, I could feel that tinge of hope lingering in his words.

"Nobody did," I said, and the hope immediately vanished. "I decided to name you Allen."

He was instantly on his feet, and he stomped, not caring a bit about the ruckus he made. "Who give you that right?" He snarled, fuming.

"I did." And Allen opened his mouth for more words, but I cut him off with my next words. "I've got to call you something since you're gonna be my friend." I stuck out my right hand.

Allen's mouth hung open, and his whole body immobilised, and his eyes darted between my hand and my face.

"You can always find someone else to be friends with," he huffed, clenching and unclenching the hem of his shirt, which looked shabby by the way. "In fact, you'll like that better."

I arched an eyebrow. "I'm asking you. And you don't even know me. Don't assume stupid things about me or I'll flip you."

Allen looked downright perplexed now. His gaze dropped to my hand again, which, by the way, was starting to get tired.

I sighed. God, this was awkward. Blowing out a breath, I reached forward, seized his right hand, and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Allen. I don't have a name, you can call me whatever you feel like. "

And without another word, I released him and sat down on the grass, focusing on staring intensely at an insect attempting voyage on a stem of a plant and biting the inside of my cheek to stave off the burn of embarrassment threatening to rise in my cheeks.

I poked at a blade of grass. The introduction wasn't exactly what I had imagined, but it was frank and straight forward, and somehow I kind of liked it.

"...Nice to meet you too," Allen finally muttered. My eyes flash back up to find him staring back with an odd look on his face.

And when we finally decided to go back inside the orphanage, he remarked, "you're short."

"Well I'm younger than you are."

"Whatever you say, _Shrimp_."

And maybe that was why that became my nickname for the time being.

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* * *

**And so, my attempt at a DGM OC self-insert fic. Because this fandom seriously need more OC SI. Hello readers:D Hopefully my story would inspire some damn good writer to start a fanfic so I'd have more fanfic to read!**

**I want the DGM fandom to be revived! And hopefully with enough encouragement and support, Hoshino Katsura (that's the DGM author, btw) would soon continue her story! **

**So, err, see you next time, readers:) Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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After I had found out that I was in the D. Gray-Man world and I had befriended the freaking _main character_, several things changed in my daily life.

There was a slight doubt for befriending Allen, but it was squashed almost as soon as it came, because there was just _no_ way I could escape Akumas and Noahs, maybe I could act dumb in the presence of the latter, but it could only get me as far as my luck could stretch. And from what I could see from DGM, Akumas were practically all over the world, as far and as wide as humans could go.

So, I'd decided to just jump straight into this mess, the ripple effect be damned.

I didn't mind Allen as a friend, anyway, despite the constant teasing of my height.

I now forced myself to fend off bullies instead of running away, to brace myself for the future, and I also set up various training courses, so that even when the future come with all the dangers, I would at least be _that_ much prepared, or at least able to cushion the impact.

_Or at least quick enough to run away, so that there'd be one less hostage to worry about, _my mind supplied bitterly, _recalling snippets of various DGM scenes._

Soon enough, I earned myself the feared and respected title of 'the queen of the orphanage'. The bullies feared me, the usually victims of said bullies' victims respected me. Enough said.

From both the DGM anime/manga, I had known that Allen had a 180 degree change in personality before and after Mana's death, but it was one thing to know the facts, and yet a completely different thing to remind myself constantly.

Not to mention, everyone was pretty harsh about Allen. The workers gave him apparently lesser food than the quantity they served to any other child. My nose wrinkled in disgust every thing I was reminded of this discrimination. But at the same time, I couldn't blame them.

I couldn't blame them because _I_ also had a thing against deformed limbs.

In my past life, I had always been queasy when in the presence of a handicap, or simply someone with deformities. It wasn't because I look down on them. No, it was because I was rather _afraid_ of them.

For some reason, I was just utterly scared of deformities.

And now, my only friend in this world, with all his potty mouth glory, had a red left hand.

The same hand which made him the '_demon child'._

Really, I didn't know how I should tackle the next few... Days? Weeks? Months?

Sometimes, I just wished there was an encyclopaedia of how to live a life or something.

* * *

Our friendship wasn't really _peachy_. We were just two kids (I found out I was younger by 2 years old... That explained how I had never noticed him when I was still in the 'baby' section of the orphanage.) who didn't trust anyone more than we could trust each other.

"Why do you do that?" He came over once, during my training.

The orphanage had a backyard, and occasionally there would be kids around, but when the sun was still in its slumber and the pale moon still hung on the sky, I would get my lazy ass out of bed, and force myself into a set of agility drills, stamina workout, speed trainings and so on. I made that my daily routine, which I would do every morning and evening, and I made it a point to do these sets without me slacking off.

I had always encouraged myself, that '_it's better to get used to it now, than in the middle of a fight where I was clearing not winning in any chance, and trying to get my pathetic self out of the battle back to wherever safe_'. In my past life, I had been an athletic, and somehow I had known it helped me, even if at times I just really wanted a day off.

It had been so troublesome and tiring at first, and it never got any better from there, but at least I could see myself improving.

However, one thing that I was sure of, was that nobody ever witness my trainings.

Thus, it really was a surprise when Allen followed me all the way to the backyard, several days after our somewhat established 'friendship'.

I paused in mid-shuffling, and as my body threatened to just collapse, I settled for a slow jog on the spot.

"To train myself," I replied brusquely, trying my best not to pant as I speak.

"What for?"

My breathings were no longer so wind up, and I could feel my heart beat thrumming a slower beat. What reasons could there be? To prepare myself in the upcoming Holy War? To escape? To protect? My lips pulled up in a maniac grin.

_What am I training myself for?_

"So that I could grow faster, and you'll no longer be calling me short."

"Humph, you'd always be short, Shrimp!" He retorted in a fit of childishness, and despite the insult directed at me, I continued grinning, not at all bothered by this fact.

"They make you tougher, and taller," I maintained, "and since I train, _I'll_ be taller than you one day."

And since then, he had joined my trainings.

I hid a smirk. It is always good to start early, isn't it?

* * *

While I was aware that Allen never took off his oven mitt, even when he slept at night (no, I wasn't peeking on him after he sleep, it was just that his roll-up bed was always near the window, furthest away from the others, so when I sneaked back after training via window, it didn't took me long to gain knowledge of that fact.) but I certainly didn't see this coming. By 'this' I meant Allen wearing that oversized glove of his, all the time doing some drills.

Once or twice, I restrained an urge to demand him to take off his glove because it wasn't helping at all. And looking at him, I visualised myself training with that worn out mitt of his.

_Urgh_.

Though, I couldn't really tell him to just take it off. Both of us knew what purpose the glove served, even if he didn't know that I was very well aware of that fact. For one, Allen had been discriminated and shunned for his life because of that hand, even though it had become his weapon in the later parts of his life.

My running slowed to a jog, and when I finally stopped to do stretch down, I thought about Allen's life once again and I compared it to the Elric brothers. Both had suckish childhood, made their most precious person into a _monster_, but turned out great in the end.

_Just... _My eyes slid to the sweat-soaked figure, who seemed so determine in completing his sets._ It's just that D. Gray Man was never finished._

Silently, I moaned for that cruel fact.

This wasn't getting any better, so I tried to focus on the bright side. _Okay, I got some knowledge about this world. Future Allen is on friendly terms on Neah, who by right is his uncle, since Allen is adopted by Mana, who is the brother of Neah. Future Allen, for some reason, wants Neah to implant his memory on present Allen..._ I listed mentally.

Mouth opening for a jaw-breaking yawn, I assumed the time judging from the still dark blue of the sky. Making a split second decision that some sleep was perfect at that moment, I curled up in a fetal position, conscious dimming.

* * *

I woke up, took notice of the position of the morning sun, proceeded to blink the sleep out of my eyes, and scanned my surroundings. I found Allen dozing off some distance away from me. Chuckling as I recalled my high school's discipline mistress' talks about BGR (Boy-Girl Relationship), something about having to stay one elbow distance away from opposite gender.

Unable to pass this chance, I crawled (yes, I was lazy, and tired) over to Allen, having the urge to just see his sleeping form.

He was so young in his sleep, with no trace of a scowl or distrust. He seemed so peaceful, some part of me desired him to live in that peace forever, and some part of me wanted to shed tears in sympathy.

My eyes strayed to the oven mitt.

_Should I?_

I had said that I was aware of Allen's hand, but in this life, I had never actually seen it before. And one thing that never put me to rest is curiosity.

_Yeah_, that curious side of me chirped. _You should just do as your heart says._

So, carefully, I removed the mitt. Once, Allen stirred, but when I glanced over to his face, his eyes were still closed, even though his brows were knitted. If Allen was awake, he would stop me. So I had assumed him asleep.

With the piece of clothing slipping off, his left hand was now naked and unprotected from sight. I examined the hand, and my eyes particularly staying a few seconds longer on the cross engraved on the back of his hand. It wasn't glowing, like what it had been in the first episode of DGM. Instead, it seemed like a dominant Innocence, as if waiting for its accommodator to make its first move.

Gingerly, I touched it with the tip of my finger, and I sucked a shaky breath in. Nothing happened, which was kinda expected. Something _would_ be wrong if that hand suddenly reacted to me. Feeling a bit braver, I brushed my finger over the red skin.

It was rough, unlike the normal skin texture, which wasn't that much of a surprise. The fingernails where a midnight black, and his joints were protruding out. To be frank, I was still a little scared of Allen's left hand, but when I pushed past my fears, I understood that there were nothing to be afraid of. Allen was human, so am I.

I smiled ruefully, and gently lifting his left hand up, I interlocked my other hand's fingers onto his, my slightly calloused skin meeting his scaly one.

Slowly, as if on pure instinct, the hand closed on mine. And I almost giggled, being reminded too much of a seahorse's tail curling around your hand. (I have the weirdest imaginary scenes popping up in my mind at the randomest times.)

Insightfully, I noted that I had overcome of of my fears.

Even though there was still this irritating voice at the back of my mind, annoying me with its singsongs of '_love~_'.

I just growled mentally in response.

That day, I decided to half-drag Allen indoor instead of leaving him outside like usual.

* * *

I had a dream last night.

It was a weird dream, somehow I was in my past life, walking through the corridors of my school. I passed by various classrooms, waving and greeting several friends when I spotted them.

I chatted with them, briefly, but I never lingered in one place for very long. We exchanged general topics like '_have you done your math assignment?_', '_what are you eating for lunch?_' and such, it almost seemed like I really was in school during a typical schoolday.

Then, it shifted. I was at home, studying (which was a strange thing, since I _rarely_ study at home), and I decided to take a break.

I was watching _animes_.

Then, I was starting at the grey ceiling of the orphanage, and rolled my eyes mentally at the odd tendencies of my dream's abrupt stops.

I yawned, and I thought back about my dream, which was already leaving me, as all dreams were easily forgotten. Somehow, my mind grasped into the 'anime' part, and I let it wander.

Then, realisation came to me like a bucket of icy water.

That, Allen was seven when he met Mana.

And he met Mana in a circus.

The said circus' Ringmaster had bought him, and Allen probably had been in the circus for a long time, like at least one year. Which made him around the age of six, give or take, when he finally left this orphanage.

And the two of us were 2 years apart.

Which made me four, and Allen six.

As I continued to lie on the bed, unthinking and being too lazy to get up, I glared weakly at the dirty grey wall, and muttered, "I gonna cuss now."

And let out a string of colourful vulgurs.

* * *

That day, I never once saw Allen. Not that day, not the following day, not ever again.

However, I knew I would meet him again.

I just needed to be strong by then.

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* * *

**Sooooo... That's chapter 2 for y'all:D I didn't expect myself to update so soon, even though I had told my classmate that I'd update, like two days ago, and at some parts the story seemed quite abrupt. Well anyway, here's Chapter 2!**

**And, sorry people, I mixed this story with another story, so actually the OC never died of cancer... You'll know what happento her in the future. (Smirks)**

**I had been thinking of the OC's name for this story even before I started this fic, but so far none had satisfied me. **_**Please drop an idea for the character's name! **_**And state the name's hidden meaning (but don't give me some gems like Ruby or something!), originally I wanted to name her Gin (Jap for silver, and really, it's the reason for both my pen name and the story's title) but it seemed too manly, even though Silver seems good. Maybe if I get a good name, I'll make Silver her surname or something?**

**Err, so enough of my rantings. Here's the review replies:D**

**Review Replies**

**snkannie: Uuuwwwaaa~ I can't read this... Whatever language you've sent My curiosity made me do google translate, and I think I got what you're saying. Thanks for the interest in my story:)) Please try to submit in English, and thanks for your support. I'm glad that you enjoy this story!**

**jaoosa2: (Laughs) Here's another chapter:D Your review just gives me plenty of plot bunnies! And honestly, I haven't thought of the Noahs yet. However, as the OC is 'reborn' that means that her body still biogically belongs to the DGM world, but you've brought out a fabulous idea! And yepp, she's not gonna be a Noah, that'll be too cruel to her. Cuz, you know, actually I felt quite sorry for the people who become Noahs cuz they'll have to obey their Noah's memories and especially the first time they awaken, it'll be extremely painful. Buuuuuuuttt! Sadly, I just couldn't find a way for her to become involved in the story without her being an exorcist... Maybe I'll have her as an accommodator, but she'll hide from the Black Order...? Does that seem legit? Hmmm...**

**Codebreakeryuuki: Really? Oh well, I hope she don't suddenly become OOC or something, I have this inclination to mix my writing style as the story progress, hope you stick on, yeah? (Laughs nervously) Well my OC don't have a name yet, so you want to suggest? (Read the above A/N) Yes, we totally need more OC SI, I've only read one or two worthy fic! Got any good ones to suggest?**

**And, to all followers, favourites, and reviewers, thanks for the support!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

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To say that I was shocked and upset was an understatement. I was extremely appalled, terrified, panicked and that was just some of the words I bothered to think up with that instant. I had been in a state of denial, silently seething and searching for the friend who lasted about a little more than a handful of weeks, until my rational side finally snapped at me.

So in the end, I sat down in a quiet corner and thought things through carefully.

Allen needed to be with Mana, he needed to know what was known as 'love'. Not the 'friendship love', but the 'family father-and-son love' that would be impossible for anyone but Mana to provide for him. Allen needed to love Mana, so that when Mana died, he would turn Mana into an Akuma, and then his Innocence would activate, and set off a chain of events which would inevitably led Allen to the Allen fangirls (and fanboys) all over my world knew about.

I scheduled and I planned. And finally, I decided that Allen should be left in his own without me interfering, or at least until Canon started.

I didn't thought of any problem with me writing down the events of the story, in case my memories fail me at the worst moments, so I managed to get hold of a notebook (I still found myself fortunate when one of the nicer ladies in the orphanage gave it to me on my fifth birthday, because paper was considered expensive and rare for the poorer people in this era.) and jotted down, as neatly as I could in a code language I had invented way back in my younger school days, where passing paper notes in class was still a hot favourite.

And I wrote. I wrote about every single thing I knew about DGM, from Allen's Crown Clown to the Black Order and even side stories in DGM: Reverse. I wrote about Kanda's shady past, and Miranda's grandfather clock, and even the most trivial stuff like Allen's favourite food being dango and Komui having sister complex.

When I had done, I had made sure that book never left my sight, not even for a single minute.

* * *

It was not uncommon practice that some people come to the orphanage not for the sole purpose of adopting a child, but to find a child-worker. Allen had been a prime example of that. The circus probably bought him, but as I thought about it, this fact was quite puzzling. Why did they want to pay for a child who knows of no skill, rather than the dozen of kids who were at least twice his size? Maybe Allen's ringmaster deliberately chose him so that he could be used as a scapegoat, and at the same time, Allen was not a threat to the performers in the circus, because Allen had no skills?

Whatever it was, I deemed it unimportant, so I whipped it together and threw it at the back of my mind.

And instead, settled for behaving myself in front of our guests.

That day had been a completely normal and ordinary day, it was just that it was a holiday, so most of the workers took a day off to celebrate whatever holiday with their family and friends.

With only a few adults and a whole bunch of kids, they were taking more than what they could handle on their plate.

Apparently, people just loved to choose this timing to visit the orphanage.

Naturally, the adults had to take care of the kids, so they were very occupied with their current task.

Since I was the best behaved kid they knew, they put me in charge of the guests, because, honestly, none of them wanted to do that. From what I could observe, the guests we had this time didn't dress like some circus people, nor some common dudes around the streets.

They had some wealth. And with wealth, came power.

None of the workers wanted to take the risk of pissing them off.

"... And this is our backyard. If you want to adopt a baby instead, we can proceed to another room," I droned on, struggling to keep the monotone off my voice, trying not to appear rude or something. I was kinda creeping myself out with all the 'advertising'.

The guest were of the Bower Family, a family which had quite some fame in our area, considering they they had some wealth and power.

I was willing to bet that, either they were coming here to find the next line of successor, or to find a child-servant.

The guests were now exchanging words with themselves in hushed whispers, and I shifted uncomfortably when I caught some looks they were giving me.

_Whatever they're planning, it sure involves me,_ I shuddered_. Hopefully it's nothing bad._

I summoned one of the workers (he was watching and stalking us from the shadows... That creep) when the guests seemed to be done. Words (and a bag of what seemed to be filled with money, I spied) were traded among the two party, and a form signed.

One of the guest dressed in a smart tuxedo bended down with such grace and elegance, and he said two sentences which had promptly made my brain went 'boom'.

"Be honoured, child. My Lord has chosen you as his new servant."

And no, I didn't really felt that honoured.

* * *

The carriage ride back to the Bower's mansion was tiresome, not really because of the jerks whenever the wheels rolled over unruly ground, but mostly because a carriage was just so small and I was like, sitting directly beside the Lord of the Bower Family. That man in tux, I discovered rather dully, was the head servant and personal butler of the Lord.

I had a feeling that Lord Bower beside me got bored with what seemed like hours of the journey with me boring holes on anywhere but the VIP, as he made an attempt to start some conversations.

"How old are you, child?" He asked suddenly, out of the blue. I barely lost the control not to leapt out of my seat.

"Five, sir," I answered, and for a moment, it seemed as if I had just remembered my age, my position in this society.

I was only _five_.

Only five, yet I must be ready to face the world in about a decade. This just kept on getting better and better.

"Do you have a name?"

"Yes, sir. It's Ginmu."

It was a half-truth. Technically, it was a surname from my mother. I recalled, once, when I hoisted myself over to a mirror, I caught the reflection of my appearance. It was really different from my past life. Take the colour of my hair for example. In my past life, I was born by China blood, so I had the typical Asian look: black hair, black eyes. But when I peered into the mirror, I was met with a child with short, red hair, who looked boyish enough to pass as my opposite gender.

The very next day, I had sought out one of the matrons there and enquired, "Who was my mother?"

The matron frowned down at me as she bathed one of the other toddlers and tried to come up with an answer to my question at the same time.

"She was a very beautiful woman," The matron finally said in a careful manner. "She... entertained people for a living. She died at childbirth though, which is why you're here."

Which was just another way of saying that my mother had been a whore at the local red-light district so I didn't bother asking her who my father was. It was doubtful she even knew.

It wasn't that I had any thing against people with this profession. Last I check, women in the nineteenth centuries didn't have much jobs, so it was just natural they would sell off their body, if only just to provide some food on the table.

I was so glad that my first life I had been so fortunate.

Ginmu was a Japanese name, the matron had explained that my mother had travelled to further lands in search of jobs, but made a mistake and boarded the wrong ship, so when she alighted she never realised she was that far from Japan until a few months later. The matron taught me how to write the Kanji of my name, and the meaning of it.

"Listen carefully, child," she said, a soothing hum, "Ginmu can be broken up into two words: Gin, and Menmu. Gin is silver, and Menmu is illusion. Your mother mentioned to me she was from some kind of clan from Japan, bearing this honoured name."

As she held my hand to write on the sand with a twig, I couldn't help but asked for my name.

"Not my surname. My _name_."

She frowned, her brows furrowed in thought.

"No," she had replied, crushing what little hope I had. "She hadn't been expecting a child."

_So you don't really have a name._ Went unsaid.

But I accepted it. I would feel weird with a new name anyway.

At least I didn't have some stupid girly name like 'Aiko' or 'Sally' or something (no offence to anyone). I think if I was ever named so, the first thing I'd do would be to undergo whatever legal process to change my name for good. Since the nineteenth century could hardly care about what a child's name was, I considered it something good.

(Years later, when I looked back, I wondered briefly that how did the matron knew my mother's clan-name and how to write in kanji. She didn't seem to have a drop of Asian blood.)

"What a... unique name," the person who I would soon tag as 'Lord Bower' commented smoothly, snapping me from my musings.

"It's an Asian surname, sir," I answered, trying to be as polite as possible because, damn this person's gonna be my supposed 'master' for some time.

... Remind me never to refer to anyone as 'master' again. I felt like some sex slave or something.

The man gave a professional acknowledgement, typical of a noble. And the rest of the journey was not spared with the occasional small talks, often questions related to me ("Do you enjoy your stay in the Orphanage?" "Yes, sir. I even made a friend." "Oh? Tell me about it."). I attempted questions to get some information like, what was expected of me, my duty and such, though I sensed that the Head Butler was glaring holes through the walls of the carriage every time I did that. (Yes, he was the driver.)

Exactly thirty-three minutes and fifty-six seconds later (it seemed 10 times the duration in reality), we arrived at a mansion. Wait, let me correct myself. We arrived at the oh-so-grand-and-mighty Mansion, private property of the Bower Family.

The butler opened the door of the carriage for the both of us, but I knew it would be the last time I receive such treatment. So I decided to savour every second if it and took my own sweet time exiting the carriage.

... Upon second thought, I decided against it, since the butler looked seriously pissed at my existence.

(I had come to appreciated my acts at this moment, because I had very quickly learnt that the head butler was _not_ a person to mess with.)

* * *

I got into the standard outfit for servants within a day, and yes I repeat, _servant_, as in the male one, not maid. When the Bowers had came to the orphanage and picked me up, all of them just assumed me to be a boy, and it helped that I was dressed in shorts and all, with fairly short hair that would pass for a guy.

Being a boy in this period of time was more advantageous, as I had already known, so I decided to live the rest of my life dressed as one.

The only daughter of the Bower Family had immediately seen through everything and dragged me aside to confirm the fact. I had been a bit flustered, of course, but I smiled easily and asked her not to tell anyone.

That time I had only been five and the young mistress had only been twelve, but somehow, even when I was much too old for my physical body and her being my supposedly 'master', we just seemed to click. And before long, I had been assigned to be her personal servant of sort, already taking on etiquette lessons to be a proper servant of a noble.

Initially, I considered running away, because being a servant didn't really do anything to help in future events, but I chided myself and reconsidered, and reasoned that there wasn't really any place I could run to, not to mention that the Bower Family, despite only being a lesser-noble, had a magnificent library filled with shelves and shelves of books.

I had long since screwed my sleep hours, and therefore I could wake up with alarms or anything, which was kinda handy since I could sneak into the library in the dead of the night to read.

Unlike the 21st Century, those light bulbs installed were really easy to bust, something about the filament overheating and such... So making the inhabitants of the household wonder exactly how the bulbs in the library would fuse mysteriously wasn't on the top of my to-do list especially since it had been years since someone set foot inside the library without the sole purpose of dusting the place.

Instead, I would allow the bulbs to cool down and rest for an hour's interval before using them again, and during this one hour, I would close my eyes and try to recap what I had read or learnt. I knew that one day it would be going to take a toll on my eyes, but I'd leave that for the future.

As a servant, there were plenty of daily orders of my higher ups, which included all of the Bowers, their guests, and senior servants, so I had learnt to treasure the little breaks I had, and the three mealtimes, and made me see just how luxurious my first life was when compared to this one. And during those little breaks I had, I had the habit of letting my mind wander.

Not just once, I thought about the chance that heh, maybe I'll be an Accommodator and I'll wield a pretty kick ass weapon or something. I even had imagined that I was a wielder of a katana, a Japanese sword, since I took some basics of kendo before in my first life, until I backtracked and slapped myself (mentally, I didn't want to appear to the others as a retarded person or something) for the attempt plagiarism of Kanda.

And there were times I wondered about the Ginmu clan, too. My current speculation was that they were actually ninjas or assassins. Though it didn't explain why in the worlds my current biological mother decided that it was a good idea to board a wrong ship to the other side of the globe.

Either that she was the loose cannon of the clan, or just that she was brought up that way. Preferably the former.

"Silvaaa! Play with me!" A familiar chirpy voice made me turn from the windows (no, I wasn't gazing through it like some pretty teenage girl in a romance manga. I was supposed to wipe it daily.) to the young mistress of the house.

Silva was actually Rose's given nickname for me, since the day I told her about the meaning of my surname. She took one look at my eyes, and said that my eyes were pretty, like the silver my clan was named after (I suspected as much that the whole clan actually had silver eyes) and my nickname had been 'Silva' ever since.

"That's not ladylike, miss," I mock-chided, and grinned as a pout was sent my way, "you shouldn't do that too, miss, Lady Bower would disapprove of it."

That only made her pout even more. "You'd know I hate all those 'etiquette'. They've even made me wear a corset! And they're trying to marry me now!"

I chuckled softly. Despite being a noble, Rose didn't like it at all, and it was kinda easy to sympathise with her. In the earlier days, females hardly had any rights at all, including the decision of marriage.

Lucky thing I was posing as a guy for the rest of this life.

"Well then," I said as I finished up wiping the last panel and threw the piece of cloth into the bucket of water. "What do young mistress want to do this day?" I grinned and sent a wink at her.

The effect were almost instantaneous as she brightened up with a beam of her own.

"Tell me that story, the one about pirates!"

I only grinned once more, and sat on the carpet.

"... When their only ship navigator Nami fell sick, the crew sailed towards Drum Island to find a doctor..."

* * *

The Bower Family had a daughter, and two sons.

The elder son was the heir to the family, so the younger son had to find another way of business. However, the younger son, despite his family status, wanted to be a sea merchant, a dangerous job during that time, but well-paid nonetheless. I had only seen the younger son once, during one of the rare times when the ship returned to America.

Unfortunately, that one time was my once time.

Words had already carried across seas that the young son of the Bower Family had not survived a terrible storm at the merciless sea, the whole atmosphere in the Bower's household had became sober, and Lord Bower had been more agitated and Lady Bower more harsh, the elder son worked harder and even Rose had not been bothering me with her requests.

Even though I had been the newest and youngest servant, knowing the house for almost a year now, I could still sense those kind of situations of which you should lay low and prayed that it passed quickly. So even now, the servants and maids no longer chit-chat whenever any family members were in a thirty-metre radius, and even if we do, it was usually important message uttered in hush whispers.

However, that was not my biggest worry.

Some night when I went to sleep, I would have nightmares.

That the _Millennium Earl_ came.

When I did, I would wake up in a startle, my shirt half-soaked in cold sweat, my hand squeezed tightly onto the sheet of greyish white cloth which served as my blanket, and my breaths came as short, shallow pants.

I was scared.

And I had perfect reasons, too. I had always been a coward, past life or the current one. I hated situations which involved direct confrontation, and I hated getting scolded. I tended to avoid anything too troublesome (I'm a Nara fan, got a prob?), giving others the impression that I was actually a timid, shy girl while actually I was just trying to lie low.

Just ask any of my friends for evidence. I did some of the most craziest stuff with them.

Being such a person, I had created several 'masks' of personality, like the usual apathy, impassive one which was my default in public, the polite and shy one in school generally, the cheerful half-joker during school lessons, the responsive one in tuition classes, etc etc.

(Sometimes I wondered if I should have gone to the drama club instead.)

Needless to say, I had been scared shitless when one day, my nightmare had became a reality.

* * *

I had learnt of many things through the newspaper, but many more regarding daily life was usually learnt from the gossip grapevine, and one of which was that the younger Bower son was actually in a secret relationship with one of the maids.

Of course all the servants and maids had known of this, since it was only a secret kept from the family, and some blabbermouths or taletellers who might leak out the information. Since I had been more than polite and helpful most of the times, almost all the servants and maids kind of adore me so they trusted me with juicy gossips.

The young maiden couldn't have been a day over eighteen, but the older maids had told me that they had been in a relationship for more than a year, which was uncommon in this era, though considering that the young Bower was always on the move, being a sea merchant and all, and that his girlfriend was a maid of all people, it wasn't that much of a surprise.

And considering that the maid had been an orphan, her only ties to this world had been cut off, it really wasn't a wonder that it was her who, in the end, created the tragic ending.

The Akuma had started off small and cautious, just killing off some unfortunate hobos on the streets whenever it pretended to be off for groceries.

This time, I really had to thank my paranoia.

That day, I had followed Old Maid (nobody, including her, knew her name anymore, so we called her 'Old Maid' because she was the oldest and the most experienced in that area, kind of like the unofficial 'head maid' or something) in town. It was our turn for groceries, and so we headed out with a list of ingredients from the cooks.

The atmosphere in town was weird. If it hadn't been me so paranoid after all those nightmares and whatnot, I wouldn't have been able to catch it. It did take a part of my luck, too.

A group of three street rats had attempted to corner the two of us, because honestly, even as servants and maids, we were dressed much more comfortably than a poor hobo (at the very least we had clean cloths which did not smell of rotten cheese and garbage, and were mannered properly like a noble's servant.), and we were only a pair of an old woman and a young child, an easy target.

It wasn't the first time any of us got into such a situation. It was just that, this time, with all the news of the younger Bower's death, if we were to get robbed again, the punishment would be at least twice as severe.

Fortunately, our escape routes were not fully sealed off, so I discreetly elbowed the unsuspecting elder, and warned her of the oncoming threat.

"Find a place to hide, I'll meet you back at the mansion," I offered with a grin.

"You can't be suggestin-"

"There isn't much time left. They're closing up to us. Please, I can handle this."

I wasn't a stranger to her by then, and coupled with the fact that the Old Maid was a sensible person who had already seen some of the stunts I was capable of pulling off, hesitantly nodded and took another path, but not before giving me a little verbal prayer.

I made a big show of shouting to my 'supposed Grandma' that "_I'll go to buy the rest of the stuff needed, you go home first_" and tossing a wallet up in midair before catching it again as an indication that I had all the money.

Those guys actually bought it.

I weaved in and out of alleys and streets, and cursing because there were not enough people as witness to prevent the unfortunate to happen, and I was pretty sure some other hobos half-dead by the streets or an old man in shabby clothes strolling around weren't good enough.

The sun were already going to set, which was a bad thing for me because it would decrease my area of vision, a huge disadvantage for me especially since those thugs stalking me knew the streets like the back their hands. Not to mention that there were barely any street lights around. And of course, if I drag this on for too long, I might even lose my dinner, so I had to make the escape quick.

My stomach growled softly in agreement.

Glancing at the setting sun as a cover for checking on possible routes, I subtly secured the pouch on the inside of my uniform coat, and in the same manner, adjusted my sleeves and pants for less restriction. I walked up to a fruit cart vendor and appeared seemingly interested in buying the fruits, and bought an apple and ate it for show, even though I was inwardly weeping for the careless use of hard earned money (I tried to comfort myself that yes, it was needed for my act.), and tried to strike a conversation with the uncle.

When I was sure that the thugs were listening in (and that the apple had been in my stomach long enough that I wouldn't vomit it out or something), I pointed towards the opposite direction of the Bower Mansion, and exclaimed (to the vendor, but of course it was targeted at the thugs), "what's that?"

And I bolted silently once the words fell.

I might have a few seconds' head start, but I wouldn't push my luck and say that it was sufficient enough for me to reach the mansion safely. A child's body, no matter how much it had been trained (unless I lived in the Naruto universe or something, with was a big no no.), would never outmatch a grown man's. Lucky thing I did train myself regularly on speed, and stealth too.

I had decided on stealth so as to reduce the chance of Akuma or dangerous people like the Noahs finding me, not to say that if I was dropped among a crowd of bloodthirsty Akumas, I would surely survive, but yeah, I working on it and crossing my fingers that someday I'd be able to make it.

I darted into an alley, which forked into two paths, and instead chose the one with a wall blocking it off, a supposed 'dead-end'. Using the momentum, I heaved myself on top of a rubbish bin overflowing with unknown substance (eww), grimacing and hoping that I wouldn't be spotted by any of the Bowers before I change when I make it back to the mansion. I grabbed the top of the wall, and used the side walls of the alley as a support, and climbed through, landing on all fours to soften my fall.

Shouts of "Find him!" and "You go this way!" resounded dangerously, and for a moment, I thought I was screwed, but as I held my breath, the sound of the footsteps getting softer but my heart was still thumping like a beating drum from the chase, and I had to continue my crouch on the ground to even out my breath.

When I eventually slowed my breathing, I looked up, and immediately regretted it.

Being in a DGM universe, random clothes lying around only implied one thing, and it was that there were Akumas nearby. Having those queer, black dust among the clothes meant that Akumas were nearby. Having humans with star patterns sprawled across their body meant that an Akuma was very, _very_ near.

It had been the second scenario I was experiencing right now, and it was little comfort to think that I wasn't in the worst case scenario... _Yet_.

Of course, the worst case would be meeting an Akuma with absolutely no weapon to defend myself.

I was lucky enough that the Akuma had apparently left for quite some while, or else I probably wouldn't stand a chance even a single killing machine like that. Heck, I nearly got caught in a run of three human thugs just then.

Deciding it safe enough to venture out of the alley, I set off back to the mansion, and slowly assessed the possibility of any suspects of an Akuma being. It was not likely that the Akuma had been one of the hobos. Well, they were already homeless, so it was probably not that they even had people to call back from the dead. Again, there was still the slim possibility that it was.

The most likely were those who had ties with the Bower's youngest son. It was just too much of a coincidence. And my mind immediately closed on the young maiden whom we all knew loved the man dearly.

It could somehow explained her odd behaviours recently, too.

The realisation sent shivers down my spine. So currently, I was going back to the mansion, which housed the killing machine.

That didn't exactly bode well with me.

_What should I do now?_ I repeated this question for the umpteenth in my mind, and the scary thing was that I had no answer for it.

Taking a shaky breath ("It's okay. Nothing has happened yet."), I attempted to calm myself down and considered the choices I had in this situation.

Which easily summed up into the 'fight-or-flight' option.

I could run away, yes, but not for long. Who knows how many Akumas were out there.

And fighting is impossible, without an Innocence. I could hope for the Black Order to send someone here, but looking at the current situation —a few street rats disappeared mysteriously — I betted nobody even cared whether they died or what.

In another words, I'd probably have to wait until half of the town was decimated or something.

Not to mention, I didn't exactly know the Black Order's number, so I couldn't call them either.

Conclusion, unless there happened to be an exorcist who happened to pass by, I highly doubted my chance of survival. That, or I find an Innocence, or at least those light barrier things that finders had with them.

Thinking it best to leave the scene ASAP, I leapt over the wall once more, and jogged back to the main street.

"Child," a familiar voice called out.

Despite the fact that I had once more or less trusted this familiar voice, this time it had was responded with uncertainty and fear. Was it because that way it had sounded, so hollow and distant and dead? Or was it the reason that the person who had called out to me was the young maiden herself.

I went against all my alarms in my brain shouting at me to run away from her, instead settling for an attempted smile, and greeted the young maid.

"What brings you to town?" I inquired easily, the effects of the etiquette lessons already kicking in.

"I'm worried about you," she smiled, an obvious fake one, and replied just as easily. "So I went to search for you. It's only a 10 minutes' walk from the mansion anyway."

If I were to come up with a person to describe her right now, I would have picked Sai from Naruto. Their expression and the tone of their voice was totally identical.

"Found him!" A resounding shout reverberated across the street, and the familiar sound of footsteps against cobblestone sounded.

In less than 5 seconds, we were both cornered by the three thugs who were chasing me just a moment ago, one on my side and two behind the young maid.

Honestly, despite the situation, I couldn't help but feel some kind of admiration for the three thugs because even after so long, they were still after me.

... Then again, there couldn't be that much well-dressed child servant, could they?

In that 5 seconds, I really didn't do anything, with my legs already rooted to the ground and me dumbly standing there not knowing what to do.

The sun was already down, and the street was empty saved for the 5 of us. What happened next, was something I would never ever forget.

A flickering street lamp stood 10 metres away from us, and that was our nearest light source. The moon was a sharp crescent, seeming to acknowledge my plight with a condescending sneer. Then, it hid behind a thick blanket of cloud, and the streetlight-

Went out.

As if on cue, the three thugs all attacked at once, lunging at us with malice intention. But, they were too slow.

The young maid was too still, too calm even when the thugs attacked. However, it was clear that she did not see them as danger, but as mere prey. A figure tore through her body, splitting it into two, and floated on the air above her, expanding like a balloon until it was about the size of a car, maybe even bigger, considering all the gun barrels sticking out from its body.

I was shivering, quivering like a leaf without protection in a stormy night. My breathing became shallow and quick, and beads of perspiration formed on my forehead. My legs had never felt so weak, and I could find black spots dancing in my vision.

It was one thing to know that Akuma exist, yet another thing to actually come across one.

"W-What is th-that thing?" One of the men had the courage to even voice out his question, having came to a halt in their assault.

But he was only met with silence, because the other two men simply didn't know the answer and I was still shell-shocked.

And in the harsh world of reality, no enemy would wait for you.

A torrent of giant bullets rained down upon us, and I barely managed to come to my senses to dodge. The other man were not as fortunate, because when I risked a second to look at the thugs, one of them, the one who asked that question, had black star pentacle spreading across their body, covering them completely in black in a matter of seconds.

I couldn't really see what was happening, but I knew for sure that if I ever got an Akuma bullet as simple as graze me, I would have to kiss goodbye to my second life, which, frankly, I wasn't about to do it anytime.

_Dying once is enough. Not to mention how much it _hurts.

Thankfully, I regained control over my body once more, and my eyes immediately roamed for the nearest shortcut back to the mansion. I knew I wasn't thinking properly that moment, and leading an Akuma back to a populated place was a really bad choice.

My actions seemed to snap the other two thugs out of their initial state of trance, and they were gaping at the rigid body of their now dead buddy. One of them found it a good idea to touch the blackened body.

Needless to say, the body crumbled upon touch.

The other, who I presumed was the leader and the smarter of the three, decided to follow my lead and run. Funny thing that he was kind of depending on me now for survival when he was threatening me just moments ago.

In a race of speed and agility, I would probably be much better than the man running with me, but when stamina was added into that equation, he was definitely the superior one. As such, with my strength fading, the distance between me and the man closed in, and I even gradually began to pull further back from the man.

I gritted my teeth and continued running for my life, the only thing I tried to focus on was the back of that man running.

"O-oi," he forced in between panting of breaths. "There... isn't any... more places..."

His speech was near indecipherable, but when I took a look ahead, I immediately could understand what he meant.

It was a dead end.

Worse thing, it was not the kind made by just a tall, but climbable wall. It was completely part of some house about four stories tall and in short, a wall which halt our escape.

In desperation, the man ran his hands all over his body, trying to search for something, anything, which could somehow aid him. I was about to do the same, and I would have if it wasn't for him pulling out a white object.

A gun.

Almost as soon, my heart sank. A gun would be no big deal against the metal body of an Akuma. I was going to enter into 'panic mode' once again.

Calm down, I told myself, and took deep breaths in, holding each one as long as long as I could before releasing, an attempt to just make myself keep my cool.

With my new state, I carefully analysed the situation. Okay, there was at least a gun now, it could serve as a distraction. The Akuma was probably just round the corner. And why was that gun so familiar? A bizarre thought crossed my mind that maybe the gun was an Innocence, but I swatted the silly idea of mine away that it couldn't be so coincidental. Furthermore, how did a hobo-thug like this man even got his hands on a gun.

Oh right. He probably stole it.

The Akuma appeared again, towering and cornering us not unlike a cat who already set its eyes on a mouse, all its gun barrels aimed at us.

The man fired.

Actually, the correct term would be, the man tried to fire. The gun only clicked uselessly, not a single bullet coming out of its muzzle.

Both of us blanched. Literally. I could see the man's originally tanned face becoming a few shades whiter, and I was sure the blood from my own face had drained.

"Shit," the man hissed, and the worst thing was that our situation couldn't be explained by a mere curse word.

The man threw the gun angrily against the wall, and it bounced off harshly, almost making me wince if I wasn't in such a grave situation. It skidded across the floor and ended before my feet.

Before I could so much as take a look at it, the Akuma started firing at us. Without hesitation, I grabbed the gun, and jumped through a newly opened window. The foolish inhabitant of the house had ended up in an unfortunate state, along with the man, but I didn't have the luxury to pity them as a second round of bullets fired again.

I ducked, zig-zagging and turning corners as much as possible. There were screaming, and more casualities, but I didn't care as much for them as my life.

Call me selfish. Call me heartless. I just want to live on.

Finally getting myself out of the house through the front door, I sprinted across the streets and found myself not far from the Bower Mansion. Shivers prickled at the back of my neck, and I heeded my instinct's warning and dived to the side, rolling on the ground to absorb some of the impact.

The ground I stood on mere seconds ago was reduced to a small crater.

Unfortunately, during my attempt of dodging those attacks, my back had somehow crashed into a wall forcefully, and a sharp pain stabbed through it, so strong that I had to bit back a gasp.

The neighbourhood was already in confused chaos. More lights pierced through glass windows, lighting up a small area of the street, and soon the streets were not as dark anymore. A few people emerged from their doors and peeked through opened windows.

At this point of time, I really couldn't find anything better than the popular saying: curiosity killed the cat.

I was still thankful, because it seemed that due to the amount of people around, the Akuma's attention had averted from me to the others. Not wasting such a rare chance, I got up, nearly stumbling but I stabilised myself by leaning against the same wall I had crashed into, and started in an agonising jog back towards the mansion.

By that time, the Akuma was already on rampage, crazily shooting everywhere and anywhere, and recking havoc on the once silent streets, but I continued, not daringly to look back.

The gun in my hand pulsed.

I blinked, checking the white delicate object and making sure I wasn't imagining it. I was proven to be right, because the gun pulsed again, and then for a third time.

_Since when do guns pulse? _I questioned myself._ Oh right, forgot that this is an anime world._

And then I paused, my running coming to an abrupt stop as I realised what exactly I had in my hands.

_Isn't it glaringly obvious?_

The gun laid on my hands innocently, still giving that pulsing, while on the other hand, I was staring at it in a mixture of disbelief and shock.

The sound of the Akuma firing and people screaming their heads off jolted me from my thoughts, so I decided to stuff these trivial thoughts together and throw it at the back of my mind. Survival comes first, then some proper answers.

I knew very well that each Innocence can only have one Accommodator, and since Judgement was already in the form of a gun, it was natural that I would assume Cross was in possession of this gun. And for the fact that the gun was found to be with a random hobo on the streets with no Cross Marian on sight, I'd let that slide for a while.

I had never fired a gun before, whether this life or the last one. I've seen animes, of course, and played games before, and I thought that would have been enough.

Apparently not, I decided, after I aimed the gun at the raging Akuma and fired a shot, only for the gun to recoil and my hand to slam painfully on the brick wall behind me, my finger throbbing in pain and my shoulders in the same state, but significantly in a less distress state since I used both hands to hold the gun.

To make it worse, the Akuma now had its total attention trained on me.

I didn't know how Akuma know that an Innocence or Exorcist is nearby, but it seemed like newer Akumas were apparently duller in these senses compared to the average ones.

I ignored the heat of pain and tried to focus, bringing my hands down and this time using the uninjured hand to fire.

"Please, I beg you," I prayed aloud.

I fired, and my hands once more slammed against the hard brick.

The second shot failed.

The Akuma was zooming towards me in a horrifyingly fast speed, too fast for what I had seen in the anime. Maybe it was just the fear amplifying whatever I had seen. My hand were shaking, both of my index fingers hurt. I was about to aim at the Akuma again when someone shouted across.

"Give me the gun, brat!"

At first came bewilderment, but as soon as I spotted the familiar-looking redhead, I mustered my strength, and with all the experience of a softball fielder, gave my best throw.

Judgement was caught beautifully, an index finger twirling the inside loop of its trigger guard. And just as sudden, I felt some sort of relief washing over me, and hope shone again.

On the other side of the street, Cross Marian stood in all his glory.

* * *

**Holy shit! That's like the longest chapter I've ever written... Tho still not hitting the 10,000 mark... Oh well. And gomenasai for disappearing for like months!**

**It seems that my story is quite successful:3 Thank you minna-san for all your support. I'm open for some story plotline suggestion, but I may or may not apply them to my story, like just some idea for me to brainstorm on... As for her name... You'd guys will see :D**

**Review Replies:**

**simply another lurker: Me too! I just can't get enough of OC SI! I'm considering Vera... But idk it kinda don't click well with my OC's personality and such, but I will consider it!**

**AzureShadowMoon: Thanks! Much appreciated encouragement;) if it's possible can you point out those errors if I missed any?**

**Codebreakeryuuki: But they separated alr! D: oh wait what am I talking I'm the author here (bangs head on desk) Don't worry they'd be together oncec Canon starts... And there would be some friendship-fluff:3**

**Guest (guest): Midori huh... Hmm but since I already want to associate her with 'silver' so I won't name her as such... The suggestion is appreciated;)**

**Crys (guest): hahaha my exact same reaction when I found an OC SI fic in a fandom! Whelp as you can see she's in the Ginmu clan, but she still wasn't named. You'd see;)**

**Spark of the forgotten: Arian, huh? Cool! I'd consider... Tho since my OC is deciding to pose as a guy... I could almost imagin what kind of reaction she'd have when presented with that nameX'D**

**Guest (guest no. 2): Here's a beautifully long update;) Puppy love is always cute:D**

**fencat (guest): Thanks for that compliment:) Really makes me damn happy! I'd be doing the childhood for maybe a couple more chapters, make a transition, then start the Canon. Can't wait for Canon... These suggestions are actually quite good~ I'll be considering them;) Thanks for all the suggestions!**

**KeeLer MiMi: Here's an update:D Well DGM have a reaaallllyyy tricky plot. (sigh) much stressed... If only I could find a website with a dang good theory about what the heck is going on in the show...**

**I Am The Land: Well, as you can see from above... Haha thanks for the review:)**

**little neko (guest): Yay thanks! Here's another update! Hmm I think I won't be considering Japanese names for now, since she's in an English country... But I'll consider her name:)**

**Angelic Fluff: Yup, I meant 'Silver', the title actually started off as a little personal joke, but I realise it can stick with the story, so I decided on it. It would be a sort of symbol for future storyline, but hehe no spoilers:3 At first I was thinking maybe she should go with him, but then again, nothing much could be achieved so I gave up on that idea... Let's see if you think my new idea works (which is this chapter) Thanks for the review:D**

**Punintentionally Forgetting: Thanks for that tip! Whelp I had been deciding that the mother is to be from Japan origin, and whipped that kind of stuff up... Hopefully you don't find it too far-fetched? (Spoiler alert: Japan, especially Edo, is going to get very involved in these Akuma stuff, that's why I decide on a Japanese Clan) And her name I'm still considering... Such a stressing proccess...**

**Guest/ForeverInWonderland: Oh my gawd you've read me! Tho that would be very far in the future, cuz now she's still quite alone, and will take sometime to break in with other people. As for the Japanese name... (if you really need explanation, see spoiler alert above for my previous reviewer) Suggestions are much appreciated;) And the Valkyries name is actually kinda good! I'd consider it... More research... Ah well. Thanks for the really elaborated review:) I appreciate it:D**

**sylversylvan: I had similar thoughts on the 'Destroyer of Time' thing, and I suspect some travel is involved... But for the other characters, like Cross... Especially Cross I need more info. Headaches incoming... Such a difficult fandom to write an OC SI...**

**Thanks for all the follows, favs, and reviews (name suggestions and research, too)! I'm literally beaming whenever I receive notifications from my email:)**


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